ARC: Crushed (22 page)

Chapter 27

I dive at Jo, catching her around the middle, and tackle her to the floor before she can get any more bright ideas. She’s not expecting it and yelps as we go down. I grab the gun and wrench it out of her hand.

“Demon!” she shouts.

“No shit! He’s with me.” Which she no doubt would have realized had she taken a minute to think before shooting. I keep her pinned and twist to check on Armand.

Please, please, please.

He’s still standing in the doorway, which I take as a good sign, staring curiously at his chest and prodding it with his fingers. There’s no blood, or smoking holes. Also good signs.

He looks up. “Appears I’m the kind of half-demon that can’t be hurt by guns.” He’s amazingly calm. Then he adds, “Good to know.”

I snort, then laugh. He laughs too. Apparently his humor can’t be shot dead either.

“I’m glad you two think this is so funny,” Jo says, and gives me a big shove. I don’t budge, and don’t plan to, until I’m sure she’s not gonna go homicidal on Armand again. “Get off!”

“Not till you promise you won’t kill him.”

She glares at me. I shift my weight so I’m sitting on her stomach, forcing her air out with a whoosh. She growls – or would have if I’d left her any air.

“Promise me, Jo,” I threaten, and wiggle.

“Fine,” she expels on a gasp. “I won’t kill him.” Then, because she can’t resist, she adds, “
For now
.”

Fair enough. Hadn’t I only promised myself the same thing? I climb to my feet, and offer her a hand up.

“Do you know what would happen if the Crusaders learned you were consorting with evil halflings?”

“Gee, I dunno,” I say dryly. “They’d try to kill me?”

Jo winces. “Good point. But Meda–” Her eyes are worried.

“Give off, Jo,” I roll my eyes. “He’s a friend, alright?”

“Some friend,” she eyes him nastily. He gives her a happy little wave, just to irritate her. “So this is what you’ve been doing? Going on a murder spree with this, this…”she hunts for a word, “spawn of Satan.” An idea occurs to her. “He’s the one who let you out!” She’s triumphant at having answered a question that obviously bugged her. Then horrified: “He’s been on school grounds.
In the school.
Meda!”

“That about covers it,” Armand cuts in easily.

Not helping.

“Jo, calm down. It’s fine. No harm done,” I say, before her head can really explode. “He’s on vacation,” I add in explanation.

She looks at me like I’m an idiot.

“He’s my friend,” I repeat. I hold her eyes, and let her see what she will there. It seems to mollify her somewhat because she backs down a smidge.

She eyes him. “He looks like a creep.”

I shrug. “He
is
a creep.”

“Hey!”

I wink at him and they both roll their eyes.

“So what do we do now?” I ask to change the subject.

Jo’s still eyeing Armand distrustfully. “
We
need to talk.”

“Really Jo, he’s already heard everything.”

That was not the thing to say to get her cooperation. Her eyes spit fire. I give in with a graceless “fine” and wave off Armand. His lips thin, but he doesn’t argue. “And shut the door,” Jo shouts after him, just to be annoying. Jo isn’t the only one who looks homicidal now, but he closes the door anyway, with a too-polite smile and a sharp click.

Once he’s gone, Jo relaxes a bit. “Meda, you can’t be friends with him after we go back – you can’t even talk to him. He’s the enemy – you know that right?” She asks the last bit very slowly.

I do.

Really.

I nod.

She eyes me sharply, but seems satisfied enough. For now. “Well, I’ve got some good news. I think we can undo the damage your leaving caused. If you turn yourself in, and we show that you just ran away and didn’t have anything nefarious in mind, they won’t kill you.”

“How can you be so sure? I mean, no offense, but they were willing to kill me
before
I ran away.”

“We’ll negotiate it as a condition of your surrender. If they won’t accept your –
our
– terms, you threaten to go to the demons and take the Beacon Map with you. They can’t risk the demons getting their hands on it. The Crusaders won’t break their word once they give it,” she finishes, matter-of-fact, as if negotiating against her own people, her purpose in life, is no big deal. I’m struck again by the weight of her friendship. “Don’t worry, Meda, we’ll fix this – but we need to do it fast, before…” She trails off, probably not wanting to remind me that the Crusaders are currently trying to kill me. As if it’s something I’d forget.

So that’s it then. Bye to my freedom, bye to Armand. Back to school, back to the cumbersome weight of being good.

But back to Jo, too.

“OK,” I say. There’s no point fighting it. I must play for one team or the other; I don’t get to be a neutral piece. “What do we do?”

“Well, first we retrieve the Beacon Map.”

Easy enough. "Why didn’t you bring it with you?”

Jo stiffens. “What do you mean?” she asks very slowly.

“Why didn’t you bring it with you?” I reply, just as slowly.

“No, Meda.” Her voice is too controlled, like she’s trying to keep hysteria out of it. “Why would I have it?”

“Then how did you find me?”

“I followed the rumors of a mysterious superhero murdering all the bad guys of Philadelphia.” The hysteria has definitely crept in, and she flails her hands a bit wildly. “Next time you run away, you might want to try to make yourself a little less famous. Once I figured out you were in Philadelphia, I started scouring the news and heard about him.” She jerks a thumb at Phearson’s red-soaked corpse. In all the excitement I’d almost forgotten about him. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist. I’ve been stuck to his side for almost a week, now.”

Turns out I don’t know Jo as well as I thought. I was sure she’d check the cubby. Fortunately, she knows me a lot better than I realized.

“But Meda, you thought I had the map… does that mean you don’t?” The end of her question squeaks.

“No, I don’t, but relax.” I say the last part quickly, before she can have a meltdown. “I left it hidden at the school for you to find.”

She does relax, the tension floods from her, leaving her limp. She actually almost smiles. “I thought you might have – I knew you wouldn’t take the map off school grounds.” The confidence in her tone makes me squirm. Jo takes another deep breath, still recovering. “So where is it?”

“Wrapped in the blanket in our attic cubby.”

The color leaves Jo’s face so fast I’m worried she might faint. “You’re sure?” she chokes out.

“Yeah, Jo, of course I’m sure. I’m not likely to forget where I hid the world-endangering artifact.”

Jo grips my hands like a vice. Her mouth opens and closes.

“Jo, what is it?” Now it’s my turn to try and keep the hysteria out of my voice.

“Meda, that’s the first place I looked.”

No, no, no, no.

Don’t say it, Jo. Don’t say it. I squeeze my eyes closed, as if that will stop the words from coming.

But she says it. Of course she does.

“It’s gone.”

Chapter 28

Jo sits on the floor. Actually, she collapses. Fair enough. My own knees are a little weak, but I’ve got two of them. I remain standing, my knees trembling but locked. My breath comes out in wheezy gasps. I’m actually hyperventilating. I look to Jo. Last time she told me the Crusaders were out to kill me – you know, like five minutes ago – she was a calm reassuring presence.

It’s not so bad, it’s not so bad, it’s not so bad.

She looks back at me, eyes monstrously huge. Then she vomits on the carpet.

That does it. I go ahead and collapse on the carpet next to her, put my head between my knees, and breathe.

I scrunch my eyes closed and pull my head from my knees, trying to think clearly. The Crusaders, an army of trained warriors, are out to slaughter me. Oh, and all of Hell, too, let’s not forget.

Yeah. It’s not so bad. Really.

Hey, I promised complete honesty to Jo, not myself.

Jo’s making little rocking motions. “Oh, God. This means the demons must have it.” She shakes her head, in rhythm to her rocking. “It’s the end of the world. They’re going to destroy the world.”

“It doesn’t. Someone in the school must have found it–”

She shakes her head harder. “I’ve been spying on them, Meda, I would know.”

“Maybe not. Maybe they just didn’t–”

“–mention that they found the most important Crusader artifact stuffed in the attic? It just slipped their minds?”

“Ah, no, but…” I stutter, hoping my brain will come up with a brilliant explanation for why the destruction of the world (and of course, me) is not my fault.

“Meda, if the Crusaders have it, where are they?” She looks around as if expecting the Sarge to pop out from behind the curtains. “If they had it, you’d already be captured.”

“But if the demons have it they’d be here, too–”

“They don’t know you’re a Beacon, do they?” She shoots a horrified look at the door Armand left through. “Do they?” It ends on a panicked screech.

“No!” I wave my hands for her to keep it down and she takes a few breaths.

“So, as far as they know, that spot on the map is just another beacon. One of hundreds they want to take out.” She’s not really talking to me anymore. “That buys us time.” Her rocking has ceased and she’s in full-on scheme mode.

“Time for what?” I ask. Come on Jo, time for one of those brilliant plans you’re famous for.

Any minute.

Come on…

Now!

Still nothing. My head goes back between my knees for more gasping.

What the hell am I going to do?

As if Jo heard my question, she grips my hand and answers.

Finally.

“We just have to get it back.” Her voice is firm, with only the slightest betraying tremble. I pull my head from my knees to find her hazel eyes staring back at me.
We
.

“Jo, they can’t track you. You need to get away from me before they come.” The words come out without thinking. After I say them, I think about what they mean. I don’t stand a chance without her. But with her, I still don’t stand much of a chance, and she’ll most likely die. I’d rather risk more of myself than risk Jo.

Mom would be proud, I think. Of course, why can’t I prove my blossoming conscience in situations other than the life-threatening kind?

I still can’t help but be a tiny bit relieved when she snorts. “Really, Meda. Don’t be self-sacrificing. It doesn’t suit you.”

“Jo–”

“Meda, I don’t have a choice, anyway. When I snuck out, I became a traitor. The Crusaders won’t take me back either, without the Map.” She closes her eyes. “Oh God, the demons… It will be the hemoclysm all over again.”

I’m worried she might vomit again. Instead she puts her palms to her eyes and presses them in. When she pulls her hands away she has the panic back under control. “OK. We just need to find the Beacon Map.” She shoots me a look. “Before they find you.”

There are so many “theys” after me, I almost ask which one. Then I realize it doesn’t matter.

“Or destroy the world.” She adds absently, then runs her fingers through her wild hair. “All right. So how do we figure out where they’re keeping it? Then how do we get to it?” she mutters to herself. “It’s got to be the DC headquarters – surely they wouldn’t take it to a minor base…” She bites her lip.

And no wonder. She’s suggesting we go into the demon headquarters, steal the Beacon Map, which I doubt is sitting somewhere obvious, and presumably make it out alive. Yeah, I’d say a lip-bite was appropriate. I’d go so far as to say it’s an understatement. I remember the enormous maze of twisting tunnels, Armand’s stories of the secret passages and hidden rooms he used in his pranks, the–

Armand. Armand, Armand, Armand!

“What is it, Meda?”

“Armand!” I squawk. “He can get us in!”

“Armand.” She repeats, lunging awkwardly to her feet. “
That son of a bitch.
”

“Whoa!”

She rounds on me. “How do you think the demons got the Map in the first place?”

“He wouldn’t!”

She gives me
that look
. “Of course he would.”

She’s right. He totally would. The truth hits me like a sledgehammer, though it really shouldn’t. The whole beauty of his and my friendship was its lack of expectations.

In the face of his betrayal, it doesn’t seem quite so beautiful.

When Jo lunges for the door, I let her, and follow. When I make it to the living room, Jo’s already laying into Armand. She’s not a foot away from him, screaming into his face. For his part, he lounges against the back of the chair, pretending to be nonchalant. His white knuckled grip on the couch gives him away.

“–and now, thanks to you, the Crusaders are going to murder Meda. They were her only hope of living in safety–”

“Not her only hope,” he murmurs indolently, baiting her.

“–but you ruined it. You understand they’re going to kill her, right?”

He snorts, and eyes her small, crippled frame contemptuously. “And you’re supposed to be the smart one?”

She growls low in her throat.

“What reason would I have to steal it? I’d have had to turn myself in in order for it to do any good.” He waves at himself as if to point out that he’s still here.

She makes a disgusted sound. “You could be keeping it somewhere, hiding it for when you’re ready.”

Armand turns expressionless eyes on me, sensing my arrival, though I’ve said nothing. “And you? Do you think I did this?”

“Of course she does–” Jo speaks for me.

“If I wanted you to speak, I’d wave a treat in front of your nose.”

“You mother-f–”

“Yes, actually, I am. All part of the job.” His words are whiplash sharp and fast, delivered without sparing her a glance. His dark, unreadable eyes are on me. “Do you?”

“She–”

“Jo!” I cut her off, and she turns sharply. When she sees my expression, she bites back whatever she was going to say.

“Do you?” He asks again.

“I think you would do anything to get what you want.” I want him to deny it.

“I’ve never lied to you about who I am,” he says it almost gently. Gently, but his eyes glitter.

“You’d lie,” I say it like a challenge.

He agrees easily. “Yes.”

“Cheat.” I take a step closer. Then another, and another until I’m striding across the room.

“Yes.”

“Steal,” I snarl, more angry at myself than him.

“Yes.”

“Murder.” I hiss it. He agrees again. Then I clarify. “Or set someone up to die.” Set
m
e up to die.

He doesn’t back down under my accusations. Instead he leans in, his big frame curving over me like a wave. “I would do all that and more.” His tone betrays a carefully restrained ferocity, and I see in him, shifting and fluttering, behind his eyes the monster I’ve always known is there. It makes my breath catch, the beautiful horror of it. He doesn’t try to hide it, if anything he leans in closer, filling my vision until he fills the world. Him and his dark devil’s eyes.

He holds my eyes trapped in his. His long-fingered hand slides to my jaw, as if to keep me from looking away. “There is no limit to what I would do to get what I want.”

I shake his hand off, shake him off, with a jerk of my head. “Then how could I possibly believe you wouldn’t steal it?” It’s just a question, just a rational question. Not a plea; I’m not begging. I am not that girl. “You said yourself; you’ll need some kind of leverage to avoid being punished when you return to the demons. The Beacon Map would be just the ticket, wouldn’t it?” I sneer.

He doesn’t answer right away, but watches me with a hungry patience. Finally, softly. “How could you possibly think my safety is the thing I want most?”

I hear Jo gasp in the background, but I’m eye-trapped. I can’t turn away.

“I know what it would mean if the Crusaders thought you stole it.
I’ve
never had any illusions as to what you mean to them.”

I blink, breaking his hold, and look away so I can’t be caught again.

“Do you really think I value my boss’s good graces over your life?” It’s just a question. Just a rational question. Not a plea; he’s not begging. He isn’t the type.

I don’t answer, so he does for me.

“I don’t,” he breathes into my ear, the words just for me, though I’ve no doubt Jo heard them. “My motives are entirely selfish. You are absolutely correct; I haven’t an innocent bone in my body.” And there it is again, the dangerous violence, the monster behind his eyes, filling his voice with all the darkness of which I know him capable. “But I know what I want – and it’s not you dead.”

Our eyes meet. The moment hangs long. Finally Jo invades it.

“Meda, no.” But it’s weak. “How can you trust him?”

“I don’t trust him,” I say. Then I pause, searching his face for answers. “But I do believe him.”

“It has to be him,” she says hopelessly. “Who else is there?”

He doesn’t break his gaze away from me right away. Finally, he says, “Plenty. The woods were crawling with demons when we left. It was only a matter of time before someone found their way in.”

“
What?”
Jo demands.

“You don’t think they knew who Luke was? Your mom made a whole library of videos addressed to him. Attacking him was a trap, to find his home base. To find
you
.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Me this time.

“I care only what happens to you. Not your,” he runs a sneering look over Jo, “friends.”

“I don’t care what happens to you either,” she returns just as nastily. “Just so we know where we stand.”

“Just so.”

“Well
I
care.” But neither of them look at me.

Great. Just great.